Fëasicil
by everLI7
Summary: "Middle-Earth isn't real," says Kelsey. Lea doesn't agree. Middle-Earth is so awesome that it deserves to exist...plus Lea has an Elvish dagger in her living room. My version of a girls-transported-to-Middle-Earth story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I know I ought to be working on In Dreams and Death, but I could not stop thinking about this idea...**

**Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. I only own my Original Characters and Original Swords.**

Middle-Earth isn't real, Lea."

She always says that. Always. I half-hate her for it.

For one thing, Middle-Earth- or Arda, which is more inclusive, but Kelsey refuses to understand that- is awesome. So awesome that it totally deserves to exist. Why Kelsey simply cannot understand the epic awesomeness of Lord of the Rings is far beyond my comprehension.

For another thing, I have an Elvish dagger in my living room.

I cross my arms and stare at my friend. "Really."

"Really."

"Explain Fëasicil, then."

She shakes her head. "Lea, someday you're just going to have to understand that people make copies of things. Like with that Strider guy's sword-"

"_Aragorn's_ sword, _Anduril_-"

"-and that doesn't make them real."

I roll my eyes at her. "_Of_ _course_ people make replicas! Where do you think I got _this_ from, Mordor?" Here I hold up the Ring which I keep on a chain around my neck.

Yes, I really do have a Ring. I am obsessed.

The Ring is mine. My own. My precious. I have to have _something_ of my own from Arda, even if it is clearly fake. Fëasicil belongs to my mother.

"Yes, Lea," Kelsey tells me, as though talking to a child. "But Fëasicil is a copy, too. It isn't actually from Middle-Earth."

This is an old argument, so often said that I feel like I am reading from a script. I am sick and tired of this script.

Something in me snaps. We have rehearsed this silly little 'play' one too many times. I am through with it. Done. I ignore my cue and improvise, fueled by unchecked fire raging in my head. Kelsey and I are like two sticks, rubbed against each other enough times in the unceasing quarrel, and finally bursting into flame.

I grab her hand and drag her over to Fëasicil's pedestal. The dagger is silver, so shiny that mirrors ought to be jealous, and unmarked save for the black runes crawling snake-like up the hilt. It is protected by a glass case, but in my wrath, I do not care.

A tightly curled fist slams onto the case and shatters it. Glass shards go flying like a shower of crystal snow. Maybe they hit me, and maybe not. I hear Kelsey shrieking, but from pain, or fear, or what, I cannot tell.

I snatch the dagger off of its pedestal and hold it before her. Kelsey shrieks louder and shrinks away.

I have no intention to hurt her with it. Even consumed by rage, I am no murderer. I only want to make a point utterly clear.

"Do you see this?" I yell, eyes ablaze. "Do you see this, Kelsey?" She nods. "This is Fëasicil, and it is _real_! It is _not_ like an Anduril replica! It is a _real_ Elvish blade and it will cut like one!"

I glance around for any suitable targets within arm's reach. The only ones I see are the couch pillows, but Mum will kill me if I mutilate those pillows. So I settle for the next best target- my arm.

In my rage, I am not rational.

With all the force my mad fury gives me, I crash the blade onto- into- my left wrist. It cuts through skin and vein very bloodily. The blood is very red…

"LEAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Kelsey whips her cell phone out of her pocket and dashes forward to grab Fëasicil from my hand…

…so much blood, so much red…

…but the instant her fingers touch it, she writhes as scarlet lightning dances across her skin…

…so much red. My world is all full of red…

…red…

…red…

…black…

**A/N: Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again!**

**Thank you to those who reviewed. It's nice to know that people care enough to review my story.**

**I see that Lea last chapter seemed a bit... insane. Well, she is sometimes. Future chapters will hopefully explain that clearer.**

**Disclaimer: I own Lea, Kelsey, and Fëasicil. I do not own Lord of the Rings.**

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...green...

Green? That does not make sense. Although it _is_ the opposite of red, so maybe it does.

Except the world is green because I am sprawled on a carpet of grass, looking up at leaves. I am fairly sure that a canopy of leaves does not belong in my living room.

"Lea? What the FUDGE is going on here?"

"Hi, Kel." I have no idea what to say. We wake up in a forest which for some reason has invaded my house, after I cut my arm with an Elvish dagger, and she expects me-

The fudge?! Did I honestly just SLICE MY ARM WITH FËASICIL?! If I did, this must be the dumbest thing I have ever done. "Kelsey, am I a lunatic or did I actually just cut my arm with Fëasicil?"

"Both."

"Kelsey!"

"What? You practically CUT OFF YOUR HAND for no apparent reason! How isn't that crazy?"

I frown. She does have a point. My fury is illogical sometimes. "Where are we?"

"Well, we're in a forest..."

"Which means that either we moved, or the world changed rather drastically in a relatively short amount of time."

"Hmm." Kelsey reached into her pocket for her cell phone, but her face contorted in confusion and her hand came out empty. "My phone was just there. What happened?"

"I am fairly sure you took it out of your pocket."

"Yes, I did. Because you were bleeding. I was going to call 9-1-1, but then Fëasicil... _electrocuted_ me...WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THAT THING ANYWAY?!"

I wince. Kelsey plays trumpet in school band, and I suppose playing a brass instrument helps you develop strong lungs, because she can scream loud enough to wake the dead. "I was angry."

"I could tell." This is rather sarcastic.

"I was trying to prove to you that Fëasicil was a real Elvish blade because of its extreme sharpness. The obvious way to demonstrate that property is to cut through something. I did not want to ruin the pillows because Mum would get upset-"

"WHAT SORT OF SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?! YOU CUT YOUR ARM BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT YOUR MOM TO BE MAD ABOUT _PILLOWS_?!"

"Truthfully? None." I blush. My temper embarrasses me when I am calm. When angry, however, all of my actions seem to make perfect sense, because they are whatever I feel is necessary to prove my point. "But then neither did that time when I almost slept outside because I refused to endure an alarm on school mornings."

Kelsey has her mouth open, prepared to scream again, but then she seems to have no idea what to say. "Your arm," she says at last.

"Ah, that." I had forgotten about that. There is no pain to remind me. When I hold out my arm for her to examine, I understand why- there is no gash, no scar, no blood. "I do not quite understand. I cut myself, so there should be evidence of that."

"Weird." She thought about that for a minute. "Cool, though. Maybe you have a healing factor like in X-Men. What about the dagger?"

"I am no longer holding it." I showed my empty right palm as proof. "I know that I was. Then you grabbed it..."

"Touched it. I didn't get a chance to grab it before I blacked out."

"Maybe that caused it to fly out of my hand, or something. In which case it would probably be somewhere between us, right?"

"Yeah, I think..." She scans the grass and gulps. "That would be it, then."

My eyes follow the path of her shaking finger. There, lo and behold, is Fëasicil.

It lies there, about a foot away from me. Its blade is covered in blood. I feel sick looking at it. My blood. Red and sticky, marring that perfect silver sheen, is _my blood_.

"You... I think you should probably get that..."

"Probably." I hesitate. I am as loath to touch is as Kelsey seems. _That is your own blood, Lea, _I tell myself._ It is _your_ fault it is there anyways. Just pick it up. You have seen blood before, and you do not even need to worry about blood-transmitted diseases. Pick it up. Now._

I sigh and reach out to grab the hilt. I refuse to touch the bloodied blade more than I can avoid, at least until I can clean it. I wipe it on the grass, somewhat ineffectively, and at last on the hems of my leggings. They happen to be pink today, so the appearance is not quite so bad as it could be. But blood on your clothes is never pleasant, no matter the color.

I look up from that unpleasant task to see Kelsey, frozen. She is standing, one hand paused in the task of tucking a loose strand of hair- which is not quite the right color; it is lighter and more golden than her natural light brown- behind her ear.

She has the oddest look of confusion and shock on her face. I have a vague desire to take a picture and post it on Instagram- _We've just been magically transported to a forest. Look at that face!_- but my phone happens to be on the kitchen table, and I can hardly go back to get it. "Kelsey, what in Arda is that face for?"

She snaps shakily out of her shock-induced trance and pulls her hair to one side. "Am I just imagining this, or...?"

Her ear is pointed, definitely different than before. I catch my breath. Pointed...like an elf's ear. "You look Elvish, Kelsey." I have a sudden thought and brush my hair away from my own ear. It does not feel odd, and my heart sinks. "Do I?"

"Yes...what IS this?!"

I think about it. I cut myself with an Elvish blade, and we end up in a forest, with elf ears, and quite possibly as elves... "I would guess that we have ended up in Arda. Which, _in case you have forgotten_, is the world in which Middle-Earth is located." The only problem is that Elvish daggers are not capable of opening time portals, or whatever else brought us here!

The question is, where are we? When are we?

"That's not possible. Middle-Earth is fic-"

"Do not so much as _think _about saying that," I say sharply. "Do you think your ears are fake? Have you forgotten what happens when I am angry?"

That last is not a threat, not really. At the least it is not meant to be a threat. It is simply the unfortunate truth of my too-fiery temper.

"Well, it's- it's- umm, well, let's explore and figure out where we are."

"Excellent idea." I do not exactly mean that, for it is hardly the most original idea in the world. I say that only to reassure her. What sort of idiot wants their best friend to be constantly in fear of them? She is giving me no reason to be angry; therefore, I am not angry with her.

I stand up, brush off my skirt, and follow her.

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**A/N: Review please! I will be thrilled to hear from you whether you liked this or not.**


	3. Chapter 3

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"Where the fudge _is_ anything?"

"I _told_ you, I do not know!" I am annoyed, annoyed with Kelsey, annoyed with the way her voice sounds somehow _off_, annoyed with the constant trees, trees, trees...is there anything besides trees here? Are we in Arda, or some weird place where the whole world is filled with nothing but trees...trees...trees...

Maybe we are just going in circles, like most people who end up lost in random forests.

There was something I read in a book once, that trees lean in a certain direction, and that is how to figure out the directions without a compass or a clear view of the stars. I simply cannot remember _which_ way the trees lean! I am not even sure that I could make something out of it even if I did remember, or if I could figure out which way they are tilted, if they even _are_ leaning- I do not know which way we should be going.

Contrary to popular belief- though more accurately _Kelsey's_ belief, I do not have a map of Arda stored in my brain. That is not even to mention that I am not even sure of our starting point, or of where we want to go!

So here we are- aimlessly tramping through some random forest to wherever the fudge we end up, if we end up anywhere, without knowing why or how we came here, or what we should do. The uncertainties irritate me like a constant mental itch, and I do not have the mental fingers to scratch it.

The mental fingers would of _course_ be _answers,_ but since I do not _have_ any and cannot _find_ any, I am in _quite_ the _fudging_ predicament!

"Kel, have you ever learned anything about survival skills, or anything like that."

"...sort of, not really. Why?"

"Perhaps because they might be pretty fudging useful at the moment?" Obvious, I would _think_.

I know how to find north by using the North Star, but with this forest canopy, I doubt I could see the stars even if it was dark out. Arda must have a North Star, though likely by another name, since there is that Sickle of the Valar constellation, which I am fairly sure is one of the Dippers, and one or the other of the Dippers has Polaris.

"D'you realize how useful it would be if I had my phone, or if you for some weird reason actually had yours with you, and we could just get an app that would solve all our problems for us?"

"That would be useful, except that I doubt Middle-Earth has Wi-Fi."

"Fudge! Lea, why do you even _like_ those books? No Wi-Fi? No, like, Internet, or flaming ninja stars, or _anything_?! What's the point in that?"

"Although sci-fi _is_ awesome," I explain. "It does not dominate all aspects of life."

"Yeah, but still- why do you like it so much?" Maybe she is not doubting the reality so much, but she is still rather skeptical on some things.

"Lord of the Rings has an epic quest, an intricate and fascinating history, amazing charac-"

"Oh, I see it now," says Kelsey with a wink and an irritating little grin.

"See _what_?"

"Oh, well you must just like it because of your _boyfriend_."

"_Excuse me?_ I _hope_ you did _not_ just fudging say what I _think_ you said."

"Mm. Well, what'd you think I said?"

"THAT LE-" Not paying much attention to my surroundings, I trip over a tree root in the middle of my sentence. Thank you, tree root. It was so kind of you to be directly in my path.

That last was not necessarily sarcasm.

In any case, sarcasm or not, I fall flat onto my face, which hurts and which smears mud and leaves on my shirt. It is rather messy, and brown and purple is far from my favorite color scheme, but it at least prevented me from finishing my sentence, which is not entirely regrettable.

"Need a hand?" Kelsey, amused, extends a hand before I have a chance to respond.

Since I am still rather annoyed with her, I choose to stand without her assistance. "I do not have a literary boyfriend!"

"Fine, Lea." She smirks. "I suppose he'd be your elf-friend anyways."

I take a deep breath and look at my Ring, examining it for damage from my fall. Incidentally, it is unharmed.

"See? The ring. You have an engagement ring from your elf-friend."

"IT IS A ONE RING, NOT AN ENGAGEMENT RING!" I cry, my pride and book-knowledge offended. That would not make sense... I can only hope, though it may well be foolish hope, that Kelsey at least understands that Frodo, not L- that _Frodo_ was the Ring-bearer. Even if she fell asleep halfway through _Fellowship of the Ring_, she could not actually miss _that_, could she?

I wonder sometimes if she had her eyes open during the _first_ part of the movie.

Elf-friend indeed! Where does she get these ideas?

Abruptly something occurs to me. "'Elf' and 'friend' do not rhyme."

"So?"

"So why do they rhyme? They did not rhyme before."

Kelsey shrugs. "Trees didn't have eyes back on Earth, either."

"_Trees_ do not have _eyes_!"

"Well that one does." She points, and indeed there _are_ eyes, glowing eyes nestled into the patterns of the bark, freshly opened and blinking at us curiously.

Then I understand. This _is_ Arda, after all.

"You are right; trees do not have eyes. But _that_, my friend, is an Ent."

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**A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! :)!**


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